Moonlight & Whiskey

by Tricia Lynne

  I shivered, clutching at my towel, feeling his warmth, and knowing his words to be true. “It may kill us in the process,” I whispered.

  Declan lifted his head, nodded, pressed it against mine. “Avery, I know you have a life in Dallas, but give me this time, and while you’re here with me, when I take you to my bed, I expect you to still be in it come morning.”

  I nodded, not trusting myself to speak as a dull ache spread through my chest. But whatever this was, I wasn’t alone in it. What a shit show this would be in the end.

  Tipping my chin up, he brushed his lips over mine. “And Joe-bag-a-dicks? Damn, that mouth.” He gave me a crooked grin, laughter returning to his eyes.

  I bit my lip, trying to stifle a smile, but when he cupped my nape and his hand slid into my damp hair, his mouth came down on mine and my blood heated under my skin.

  “Do you know how you look right now? All that flushed skin and wet hair? And a tiny towel.” All traces of his anger and icy detachment fled as he brushed a thumb over the swell of my breast.

  “I’ll say. She’s fucking gorgeous!” Jamie announced from the doorway.

  I peeked around Declan’s arm while he let out a long exhale, rolling his eyes shut. Kat stood stock still next to her blond sex god, the key to my room in her hand, smiling her Cheshire grin as her eyes flitted back and forth between us. I shot Jamie a wink that he immediately returned.

  “Don’t let us stop you. I like to watch,” Kat added, walking to the chair and getting comfy. Jamie took up residence on the ottoman, sliding back between her legs, long arms draped over her thighs.

  Declan grinned, raised an eyebrow.

  “Uh, no.” I grabbed the hotel robe, pulled it over my shoulders while he adjusted his junk to hide his hard-on. “There’s no need to be modest, big guy. Kat’s no lady. She’s full-on perv.”

  “Okay then,” he said with amusement written on his face. Declan sat down next to me on the bed, sporting a full wood, and it was a bit of an eye grabber.

  “Holy shit, Avery! I hope you tore that up,” Kat gushed, lacking any tact while openly ogling Declan’s junk. “And was that an accent I heard? I want one with an accent,” she added with a pout.

  “Hey,” Jamie objected, but Kat’s eyes stayed glued to Declan’s X-rated shorts. Then she grabbed Jamie by the hair, her narrowed eyes aimed at his back. “Didn’t you just say my best friend was gorgeous?”

  “Yes, baby, but you’re not the jealous type.”

  “No, I’m not. And it’s the truth.” She turned shrewd eyes on Declan. “But does she walk funny, big fella?”

  “She’s walking okay. I, on the other hand…”

  Kat and Jamie both snorted.

  “What about you, Kitty?”

  “No, I will not walk as strange as you do during this trip, but this one makes the most of what he’s got and I’m a happy camper.” Jamie faked a wounded look, clutching his chest. “Sugar, don’t be offended. You have a very respectable-sized dick.” She slapped a quick kiss on his forehead. “But Declan should be making porn, not music.”

  “You two are talking about our dicks like we’re not here. I feel kinda used,” he scoffed with a sexy pout.

  “Strangely, I don’t mind at all,” Declan added with a wry smirk.

  “Huh. It’s ’cause you came out on top,” Kat muttered. “Jamie, go get your boy a cold shower and fill him in on tonight. I have a treat planned for me and Avery today.” Jamie snuck Kat a quick kiss with his bee-stung lips before he and Declan slipped out.

  I didn’t get kissed. I got the grin.

  Chapter 14

  Kat and I arrived at a spa called Hiatus on the fringe of a swanky French Quarter hotel that was full of antiques and old cooters. Facedown and naked except for a sheet, on a table in a double massage suite, I talked through the face hole while a blonde in her fifties rubbed my shoulders.

  “I pissed Declan off this morning.”

  “What happened?”

  I recounted the night’s exploits and told her how easy it had been to talk to him. How things got deep so quick, too quick.

  “Hands down, Kat. Best. Sex. Ever.”

  “So why was he pissed, then?”

  “I bolted this morning.”

  She lifted her head, mouth pursed in a little “o.” “Noooo. Why?”

  “I was afraid things might look a bit different in the light of day. Moonlight and roses kind of skew the perspective.” I’d been myself with Declan. Let myself just be without any pretentions.

  “You bolted because you like him,” she chided. “You think that: One, he’s out of your league. And two, he’s capable of hurting you. That was shitty, Avery.”

  Yeah, Declan had peeked behind my curtain, and he wasn’t after trading up to Kat, or what I could do to further his career. If he’d asked me to leave…Well, the sting from that wouldn’t go away easily. But he hadn’t. He wanted more time with me. The guy who told me he didn’t get involved.

  “Jeez, snarky much, Dr. Phil?” I lifted my head and rested it on my forearm, meeting her gaze. “It’s not like this can go anywhere, anyway.”

  She leaned her chin in her hand, eyeing me in a way that told me she saw through the bullshit. “Avery, I love you, but you are too busy living in the past, and too worried about what the future holds, when all you should be thinking about is the present, and the very hot and well-hung man between your legs. Enjoy your time with Declan. Drink him in and swallow him down. Yes, if you begin to care then you may get hurt, but what would you rather do? Live your life, or waste it on the what-ifs and could-have-beens?”

  She dropped her face back in the hole. “He’s not your father, Avery. And he’s not some Jason. He’s the hot rock god with a huge hood ornament that worshipped your body and made your fantasies come true. Don’t project your shit on him.”

  What, was it citywide “shit on Avery” day? They should have T-shirts made.

  “Why, hello, pot,” I sneered. “Kettle has had enough of your shit today. I love you, too, Katia, but people who live in glass houses and all that.” After my second scolding of the day, I was fed up.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, yes, you do,” I said, with a humorless laugh. “Don’t play dumb with me, because I know where the bodies are buried.” She raised her head again, brows furrowed, anger flashing in her eyes, but I didn’t let her get another word out. She wasn’t the only one who saw through bullshit. “You screw anything that catches your eye, Ms. Daddy Issues. So, don’t try telling me I should live in the now, and all your Zen bullshit, when the only reason you buy it is because it suits your purpose. You don’t stay with a guy more than a couple months and whenever things get serious, you cut bait and run.”

  She sputtered, but I cut her off.

  “Maybe I live in the past and worry about the future, but you don’t consider the consequences of your actions, and have left a highway of broken hearts that’s exceeded only in size by the load of holier-than-thou bullshit you peddle. That ‘fuck it, life’s too short’ attitude you adopted when your mom died won’t sustain you forever. Light and easy without any consequence works only while you’re in your twenties, Katia. And that. You. Are. Not. If you’re going to stir shit, darling, be prepared to lick the spoon.”

  The massaging had ceased and I sat up, rested my chin on my hand. Kat’s amber eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Shit. I’d taken it too far.

  “Dammit. I’m sorry.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I love you, Kitty.”

  “I know. Bitch.” She smiled, but it was empty. With that, the massages resumed, but the cloud continued to hang over us.

  I decided to try a subject change. “Tell me this plan you and Jamie came up with? Is it a threesome? Oooh, please say it involves me. Jamie is dreamy.”

  “Excuse her, lad
ies. I’m going to have to call her man and ask him to put Avery’s freak back in the cage, or at least on a short leash.”

  The massage therapists snickered.

  “Hmm, leashes,” I muttered thinking about Declan’s control. Did I have an inner freak?

  “What was that?”

  “Musings on pet supplies.”

  “The guys are taking us out for a bite, nothing fancy, then we’re hitting an infamous karaoke bar so that I can get all revved up by Declan’s voice before I have to go back to my Sweet Jamie of the Small Cocks. Then I have a surprise for you.”

  “Jamie of the Small Cocks? Is it really that bad?”

  “No. Actually, he’s about perfect. From his completely lickable abs to his seven inches of bar-belled heaven. Jamie is a master of his love muscle, and I am quite pleased with this week’s manwhore. But if he gets stuck next to Declan in a circle jerk? Yeah, he’s going to develop a complex and buy a Ferrari.”

  I snorted.

  “Honestly, Avery, I’m pretty sure I saw the head of that man’s dick sticking out of his shorts.”

  “Yeah, you probably did. It shocked me when I saw it, but I gave myself a pep talk. You know, take one for the team; vaginas are meant to stretch. In the end, I did everything I could to get him to lose control and drop the hammer, but he keeps it on a tight leash.” I shushed her before she could do the dirty joke. “Not on his dong, on his control.”

  She snickered. Kept repeating the word “dong,” rolling it around in her mouth and then laughing as if she hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

  “I think I understand why he tried to keep the beast caged after the argument this morning.”

  “Maybe he’s afraid he could hurt you with that thing.”

  “It’s not that. I think it’s got to do with his dark side. I mean, he’s the front man for a rock group so yeah, he’s got the dark sticky bits, but he wasn’t ranting and raving scary mad. Declan was cold and tried to hit below the belt. He wanted to hurt me.”

  “You mean like you hurt him by bolting?” She lifted her head and popped her brows up.

  “I didn’t—” Oh, shit.

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “I know somebody else who hits back like that.”

  Well, fuck.

  Chapter 15

  After the spa, we took our time and strolled back through The Quarter looking at storefronts. Apparently, Jamie’s talented guitarist’s fingers translated to Kat’s body in a way she’d never experienced before. Must be all those quick finger movements that made him so dexterous. She was coming around a bit slow; there was something there beyond hit-it and quit-it.

  When Kat and I stepped out of the hotel elevator several hours later, Declan and Jamie were leaning against one of the sofas, drawing all sorts of attention. Each man was gorgeous in his own right but seeing them together made it impossible not to stare. The four of us walked Chartres Street down to St. Peter and then turned toward the river.

  Slivers of pink and purple light faded in the sky as the sun slipped behind a bank of fluffy clouds, passing the torch to her more scandalous sister for the night. Café Du Monde was a bright white beacon against the dark backdrop of both the Moonwalk and the Mississippi, where softer lights flickered, beckoning romantics. Storefronts at the old brewery glowed from within as people shuffled up and down the sidewalks to their evening plans.

  We stopped to watch some of the city’s unwashed youth, holding court on one corner with buckets for drums, a harmonica, and a huge black pit bull—who for all the badass looks wore a T-shirt that said, “Rub my belly for luck.” Jamie didn’t hesitate to cozy up to a bucket and start beating out some tunes while Kat and I tried to get Declan to sing “Dude Looks Like a Lady.” He refused, making excuses about how trying to sing Steven Tyler chapped his ass. He dropped a twenty in the baseball hat before we left, though he didn’t know I saw.

  Eventually we ducked inside the Central Grocery Company. Kat and I planted ourselves at a row of community tables while the guys went to order muffulettas for the group.

  We were eating our sandwiches when Jamie asked about Kat’s modeling days. “The Serengeti was my most memorable shoot. Our party’s bush guide was friendly with a local group of cheetahs. He enticed them onto his truck next to me for the photographer. The way those big cats rubbed against my back and legs, nudged at my arms…I knew God was there.”

  When I pulled up a couple of pictures on my phone, Jamie was awestruck. “Wow, absolutely breathtaking, baby. Still, I think I prefer the ass you have now.”

  Kat laughed. “Plus, I get to eat.”

  It turned out Jamie could play quite a few instruments.

  “I screw around with a bunch, but seriously, the cello and piano other than guitar. My heart has always been in hard rock, though. My dad is a classical cellist and my mom is a well-known soprano, so you can imagine how that went over. I was relieved when BlackSmith stopped chasing a record deal. That kinda fame changes you.”

  There was a story, but I didn’t pry. Declan told us about moving around when he was young and how it’d meant he used his fists a lot.

  “Is that how you got the scar?” I brushed his cheek with a fingertip.

  He nodded. “Junior high, my dad put me in organized boxing to keep me out of trouble. I was climbing the ranks as a nineteen-year-old when I got into a bar brawl. Under age. Drinking. Flirting with someone else’s girlfriend who didn’t act like someone else’s girlfriend,” Declan said with a wink.

  “The dude hit me with a beer bottle and I came back swinging.” He shook his head and regret flashed in his eyes. “He ended up in the hospital. Two broken ribs and a wired jaw. The sanctioning body barred me….I still train though, with Shaun, who can hand me my ass whenever he feels like it.”

  “Avery’s a brawler, too. Thank God she’s got a good right hook because I can’t fight for shit and she’s saved my ass more than once.”

  “Wait, what?” Jamie’s brows shot up as he glanced between me and Kat.

  Kat rolled “Women can be catty when they think you’re flirting with their men. Even when you’re not.”

  Declan nudged me. “Bit of a scrapper, are we?”

  My eyes flitted to him and caught the question in his look. “I was a bit of a tomboy growing up. I came home from grade school one afternoon, crying, with a shiner. I’d been sticking up for a friend and didn’t believe the bully would hit a girl. My dad said, ‘If you’re going to act like a boy, then you’d better learn to hit like one.’ ” I shrugged, remembering how confused I’d been, wondering what was wrong with hitting like a girl.

  Declan’s calloused palm sought my hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. Then he brushed my lips with his own easing my tension.

  “She’s a shit-hot engineer, too,” Kat put in. “But she’s modest as hell. Avery just wrapped design on the Cowboy’s new practice facility.”

  “No shit?” Declan countered, and Jamie’s mouth fell open.

  “It’s not that I’m modest. I’m damn proud of my work. But there is a difference between being proud and bragging. My work speaks for itself.” A small grin touched my lips. “Sports venues are a specialty of mine, but I also do a lot of work in healthcare.”

  “Like hospitals and shit?” Jamie put in.

  “Yes. And research facilities. State-of-the-art surgical suites. I was a project manager on Northwestern’s new teaching hospital.”

  “Fuck, you’re smart.” An odd, almost unsure look flitted over Declan’s face, but it was gone in an instant.

  “Hey, there’s no way I could pick up a guitar and, overnight, do what you guys do. It’s a skill you have to learn and practice. Engineering is the same.”

  “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Declan muttered in a soft voice.

  We talked first concerts, favorite hair bands, and swapped stories like old
friends until finally relinquishing the table to the growing line of patrons. Declan had staunchly shit on karaoke, which had been all Kat’s idea, Jamie having already told her it wouldn’t fly.

  We ended up at a dance club not too far off Bourbon, killing time before my “surprise.” It wasn’t the guys’ scene, but Jamie said they knew a manager. They occupied a couple of barstools while Kat and I worked up a sweat on the dance floor. When Missy Elliot’s “Pep Rally” came on, we did our best to bounce it out with a couple of local girls.

  When we went back to the bar to cool down, there was a line of shots and a bottle of water waiting for each of us, along with a familiar face. Matthias leaned muscled forearms on the glass bar top, a towel thrown over the shoulder of his black V-neck, and cherub-like caramel and chocolate curls loose around his ears.

  “What have we got here?” Kat eyed the shots.

  “This is a rum flight and this one is whiskey,” Matthias yelled, over the din of the bass. “A gift for you girls.” God, that was a beautiful smile. Those dimples and the turquoise eyes…where Declan’s grin was all I’ll fuck you hard against a wall and leave you devastated, begging for more, and Jamie was Mister I just stepped out of an underwear ad and can make you spontaneously come with a wink and a smile, Matthias’ smile was more Take me home to meet your parents and I’ll go down on you in your pretty pink bedroom.